Christine H. Powell
Comments about Christine H. Powell
Over In The Meadow
Over in the meadow where the wood thrush sings
There waiting is my true love
My heart seems to have wings.
We meet there every evening
We kiss and we embrace,
The flowers nodding in the mossy glade
It's such a lovely place.
Here we have our secret meetings
That no one knows about,
Over in the meadow
Where there's beauty all about.